Restoring Hope

by Smith, C. P.

  Once they’d loaded their gear into the waiting truck, Mia crawled into the back of the bed with Lucy so they could make their way to the local hotel for the night. As they pulled out, heading down a narrow dirt road that ran through town, she took in her surroundings. The town consisted of one main road with buildings scattered on each side, which looked like they’d been there for a century or more. Log framed, single story, with wooden signs out front announcing their business, she wondered who would want to live in such an out-of-the-way place. No mall for shopping, not even a Wal-Mart for essentials. Although, she had to admit, the view around the town was spectacular. Nestled in-between two great mountains, with a crystal blue lake on its borders, it looked like a postcard you’d send home while on vacation stating, “We were here.” The pine trees stood tall; almost proud around the outskirts, as they reached towards a sky so blue it burned your eyes. And the scent of the air was so clean; it almost choked her with its purity. She could see the draw for an outsider to come visit; it really was quite perfect in that “explore the great frontier that is Alaska” kind of way. But, year round?

  As they pulled past what appeared to be a grocery store, she noticed two men standing next to a beat up brown truck. One grinned and waved as they passed by; he looked to be in his thirties with red hair and a boyish kind of charm. She waved at him and then looked at the man standing next to him and her breath caught. Light colored eyes, framed by strong brows, which were scowling. The rest of his face, rugged and sexy with a full beard that looked a week or two old, seemed to tighten when he looked at her. What on earth? He was big, no a giant, about six-foot five-ish and maybe two hundred and fifty pounds of pure brawn. He had dark brown, slightly curly hair that he wore too long but it suited him. He had on a dark gray flannel shirt with a black thermal underneath, and they were tucked into jeans that she’d bet money were Wranglers. He was gorgeous, the personification of what every woman thought of when she pictured a rugged man from Alaska, and he didn’t seem happy to see her team.

  Heart pounding from just looking at the man, she leaned through the open window in the back of the cab and questioned Curly.

  “Curly, has Donald insulted the locals in the past?”

  “Zimmer? Ain’t a man within fifty miles of here would lift a finger for that ass-wipe. Pardon my French.” Sighing, ‘cause that was just like Donald, she made a mental note to do what she could to present herself and the team in a more favorable light. Looking back at the two men who were now climbing into their truck, she wondered what a man like that did for a living that would keep him in a town this far north. She figured he must have grown up here, married his high school sweetheart, and then settled down to a life of clean air and views so perfect you’d think you were walking on the streets of heaven. It figured that the first man who’d made her heart beat a little faster lived at the end of the world, and seemed to hate her on sight.

  As Max pulled out of the Smith’s Mercantile, Buddy whistled low and mumbled, “Never seen a scientist who looked like that.” Neither had Max and she had pain in the ass written all over her. She was too damn everything to be anything but a pain in the ass. Long black hair, and crystal blue eyes hidden behind ridiculously large glasses, she had the figure of a stripper and the look of trouble. She could try to hide her sexuality behind those huge men’s frames, but those damn lips of hers screamed kiss me make me moan, and the fuckin’ punch to the gut he’d gotten when she passed by in the back of Curly’s truck, pissed him right the hell off. Ever since Kelly had left, he’d avoided women who screamed high maintenance. He’d put up with her longer than he should have, and once she was gone, he saw her for who she was, a spoiled bitch who looked down on everyone. He’d learned from that mistake, and avoided woman who looked like they couldn’t hack the mountain life. And this one, with her flowing black hair and designer clothes, screamed it loud. He kept his life simple, no entanglements with high-strung women who couldn’t kick back and relax, enjoy life, the beauty of a sunset, or the quiet of a mountain top as an eagle soared high above. So, until he met the right woman, one who shared his same dreams, he was satisfied with his occasional hookups with Annie, a waitress over at Last Call Bar and Grill. She wasn’t looking for anything serious and neither was he, for now his focus was on what mattered, his logging company.

  Hunter Logging, passed down from his father who’d died in a logging accident ten years prior, kept the town’s men employed and food on their tables. He had a responsibility to the whole town to keep his company in the black. Without the jobs he provided, the town would go under, and the responsibility of that weighed heavily on his shoulders. He was thirty-six, unmarried, and after dating Kelly for a few years, she’d up and left him for greener pastures, or as she put it in her letter, “to live her life in a city where something happened other than snow and darkness for two months out of the year.” That had been more than three years ago, and he hadn’t tried to stop her ‘cause he’d been done with her attitude before she left. People make choices in life, and hers was to live her life for herself, and look down on those who wanted a simpler life up here. He’d made the decision when he was a kid that he wanted to live here the rest of his life, woman or no woman at his side. It was in his blood, this town, his father’s business, and no man or woman was gonna convince him to leave. As for kids, he figured he had plenty of time to settle down. Men in his family tended to wait until they were older. Like his father, who’d gone to the lower forty-eight, at the age of thirty-eight, and found his bride, a feisty, strong-willed woman from Gunnison, Colorado. And his cousin Jack, a sheriff in Colorado who’d recently settled down and had kids at the age of forty. So, until that time came, he’d keep working hard to keep Hunter Logging in the black and the town of Trails End, Alaska employed.

  As he continued to follow Curly’s truck down Main Street, he was surprised when it turned into the only motel in town. He figured they’d want to head straight up to their base camp about a mile away from his logging operation. He’d needed to stop at the post office before heading back up the mountain, so he pulled in; told Buddy to stay in the truck, and then got out and watched again as they unloaded from Curly’s truck. The black haired beauty with the ridiculous glasses got out of the back, and when she saw him staring, went out of her way to smile and wave at him. Shaking his head slowly, though his lip did twitch a fraction at her display, he saw her face fall when he didn’t wave back, and he watched in disbelief as she turned too quickly and fell over a suitcase. He took a half step forward when she landed on her hands and knees, and for the first time since he’d laid eyes on her, a moment of worry for her safety crossed his mind. He didn’t know what idiot sent a woman like her to Alaska, but he hoped like hell that her colleagues kept a close eye on her, ‘cause there was one thing he was certain of, that city girl was an accident waiting to happen.